No Title
by NinjaGirl3194
Summary: Breif look- Arthur sat in the stuffy compartment, gazing through the tiny window to see masses of blue rush by. The only sound to be heard was the humming of the plane; an American made modified P-51 Mustang. America and England.


By Izzy Taylor. Title- …

Arthur sat in the stuffy compartment, gazing through the tiny window to see masses of blue rush by. The only sound to be heard was the humming of the plane; an American made modified P-51 Mustang.

Arthur sighed; he looked to the pilot seat to see the sandy haired man stuffing his face with army rations. No doubt, the captain of the pilots, Alfred J Jones.

"Alfred!" snapped Arthur, glaring at the pile of tins next to the pilot in disgust, "Don't eat while flying! Do you even know where you are?"

"Mmmh, mh mmhh!" came the reply. Arthur slapped a hand to his forehead, counting back from ten.

"Just give me the map." Snarled Arthur, after gaining his cool; Alfred nodded, grabbing a wrinkled sheet and chucking towards the fuming short haired blonde. Arthur grumbled about bad manners as he opened up the map. A large picture of the United States of America met him.

"What's this?" said Arthur, through gritted teeth.

"The world!" said Alfred, before shoving another cube of bully beef into his mouth; completely unaware of how wrong he was.

"NO! You git! This is America!" shouted Arthur, throwing the map to the ground and crossing his arms. "You idiot!" he yelled, you extra measure.

Alfred just ignored the fuming British officer, turning his attention to the sky in front of him.

Arthur turned his attention back to the window; another plane was flying dangerously close to them. A large red spot was on them, flashing in the summer sun. No doubt.

"A Japanese zero!" cried Arthur, reaching for his revolver automatically.

"Geez, their's two more of them!" growled Alfred, taking a violent plunge as soon as a rattle of guns were heard.

Twirling and taking sharp turns, the plane groaned under the pressure of being pulled to extremes. Alfred's glasses flew off while in the desperate attempt to lose the enemy's planes.

"Persistent, aren't they?" yelled Alfred, taking a steep climb. Arthur was turning a sickly green, nearly the same shade of the forest green of his military uniform; steadying himself on a bolted down crate.

"WATCH OUT!" screamed Arthur, watching in terror as the enemy plane ram into the side of their plane.

Alfred grunted as he spun the plane to a sharp right, ignoring the flashing and beeping on the control board. Arthur looked through the huge hole in awe, watching the zero plummet down towards the calm and serene sea.

"No!" shouted Alfred, glaring at the control board in frustration; "No! We're not gonna crash!" Arthur was terrified by the frantic and distressed look on the young mans face; his stomach dropped as the plane nose-dived to the same fate as the zero.

An eerie quite humming noise drowned out the droning sound of planes and the clatter of machine guns when the plane was millimetres away from the sea. Both Alfred and Arthur and the plane were bathed in peaceful whiteness.

"Oh no! I'm dead!" whined Alfred; banging the control board like a child. Arthur was in shock. They… they did not crash. In fact, they were peacefully still flying. The hole was still there, but, no zeros. No guns. And defiantly no aeroplane crash.

"I'm not meant to die! I still have my life in head of me!" moaned Alfred; gloved hands on face. "Ah, oh well, at least I'm in heaven."

Arthur chuckled, amazed at how dumb Alfred could be at times. Alfred spun around to see a sniggering Arthur and his relieved face turned to one of disappointment.

"Oh, you're here. It must be hell then."

Before Arthur has the time to strangle Alfred; Alfred jumped into action, pushing buttons and steadily flying.

"Alright, I'm gonna fly to a near by run way, just buckle down!"

"What???" cried Arthur, sitting back into the passenger seat. 'You knew where we were?"

"Of course! The hero always knows where he is going!" Arthur did not reply, he was trying to throttle the idiot pilot, ignoring Alfred's cries of help.

After a good strangle (and when the plane started to sway hazardously) Arthur felt weird all the sudden, as a cool shiver ran down his spine. Some thing was off; but he just couldn't put his finger on it.

"Ok, where here!" sang Alfred, slowly descending. Arthur ignored him, wondering if the blonde could feel the same sensation. Maybe they were actually dead?

"Alr- what the heck?" said Alfred, his cerulean eyes widened in confusion. Arthur followed Alfred's gaze to see a run down airport; thick vines curled around some rusted planes; and bulky vegetation was spread along the run way used to be. Some animals were resting, oblivious to the ruins around them.

"It was not like that before…" whisper Alfred, very baffled at the state the runway was in.

"Hmm, maybe it's the wrong island. Now, can we _please_ just set foot on solid ground?!" growled Arthur, frustrated that the feeling was not going away.

"Alright! See! There's land!" cried Alfred, pointing towards a little dot in the background. They roared away from the island, speeding towards the dot. The cockpit was pretty quite for a few minutes, until a glint caught Arthur's eyes.

"What's that?" mumbled Arthur, squinting.

"Mhh? Oh no… is that an enemy plane?" shouted Alfred, quickly putting the plane into a nose dive. The glint zoomed just above them, a deafening roar following it.

"That's a plane?" screamed Arthur, quickly turning a greenish colour as Alfred put the plane into a barrel roll. "The thing ain't shooting at us!"

"well, it soon will!" shouted Alfred, swearing as the control board started to flash yet again. "We got to land!"

"But, it may be enemy territory!" cried Arthur, petrified at how determined Alfred's face was. But, well, Alfred didn't listen; he pushed the lever which the wheels lowered; just as another huge jet whooshed past; a noise like thunder following it.

"Oh lord, make this guy stop." Pleaded Arthur, turning his head towards the ceiling.

"Gnhhhh" groaned Alfred as the plane made contact with the run way, skidding along it. They plane slowly rolled to a stop, and Alfred fell back into his seat panting, while Arthur slowly pulled himself up. He looked out side prepared to see some unknown jungle.

Huh?

A huge crowd of people, women, men and children, lined against a flimsy orange fence, they seemed to be whispering and giving the plane bizarre looks. They wore clothes that looked strange and unfamiliar.

" Were are we? Greece…?" mumbled Arthur, pulling himself upright from the cockpit's floor; then, a thundering banging was heard. Arthur pulled out his pistol as well as Alfred, who jumped to his feet instantly.

"Who's there?" yelled Arthur fiercely, glaring at the cockpits entrance, his green eyes were wild with dread and caution. In the corner of his eyes he could see Alfred had put back on his glasses and was serious, a rare expression for him. Arthur sighed warily and turned his head towards the door.

The door swung open, and a heavy breeze came in, making Alfred's heavy leather bomber jacket sway. A short, stubby man, with over sized glasses and slicked back hair met them. He smiled a cheesy grin and held out his sweaty palm to the pair. Arthur did not lower his gun; he just gripped it tighter.

"How do you work for?" said Alfred calmly, taking a step forward. The man, simply grinned and put his hands up waving them.

"No no no, you come with my lovely assistant. We get your plane fixed and you can go home to your guns and what not."

A short girl came running through the door, panting and gripping onto a pile of papers. She tossed back a stray strand of her mustard yellow hair. She looked at the two, and, completing ignoring they had firearms, took the two by the wrist and dragged them out of the cockpit. Arthur was surprised that a woman had the guts to do that, and… _what was that?_

Huge helicopters and planes lined the road; there metal shells sparkled in the sun. Alfred's mouth was agape; an excited look was plastered on his face as they quickly ambled down. The trio stopped in front of a large metal jet, gleaming proudly in the sun.

The assistant turned around with an impatient look on her face.

"alright, you two, your flying this thing. It's the only way you can get back home." The two spun around to gape out her like fishes. Fly that thing? Arthur had a face of disbelief and Alfred a childish grin.

"Bu- wait. Are we?-"

"Yes the future!" the cheesy midget man interrupted, finally being able to catch up with the trio. "Now, fly away before something bad happens!"

Before the duo knew it, they had the jet ready to take off. Alfred put the gear on, thrilled that he was going to fly such a fast aeroplane.

"Alright, just, go up! As far as you can! Oh! Here you go," the assistant passed Arthur a pale yellow sheet. "Just read this, alright?" He nodded, already reading.

"Here we goooo!" yelled Alfred as they zoomed off, faster then anything they have felt before. They started a step climb then, they went vertical. Arthur had lost the page in terror, trying to ignore the fact that they could die within seconds as the massive g-force did its job.

The plain ascended into the warm, welcoming white light; which bathed the aeroplane and everything in it.

Arthur opened his eyes to see the familiar dusty carpet and the unique musky smell of the mustang. He groaned and lifted his skull, and a large egg was on his head. He turned to look at Alfred, he seemed to be sleeping peacefully, and the plane was just flying by its self.

"oh…" mumbled Arthur, standing upright. It was all just a crazy, whacked out dream. He walked towards the pilot and failed to see the same pale yellow sheet innocently lying next to the army rations.

The End :D


End file.
